Page 19

Chapter 19

Superfan

Jayna

“I’m sorry, Jayna. You’ve worked hard and done everything you possibly could. But your knee hasn’t recovered, and I cannot see any chance that it will regain full strength. You’ll be able to walk, and skate recreationally, but it can’t handle the stress that playing hockey will place on the joint.”

I stared at the doctor, her words flowing around me but not making sense.

My knee had to recover. It was a stupid hit, and I’d had surgery and done everything they told me. I’d done extra sessions and rehab out of my own pocket. I’d done everything. She said so. It had to work.

But she was still watching me with that sympathetic doctor expression, pity in her eyes. The same expression the therapists had worn lately. The we’ll try but it’s not going to work look.

“More surgery?”

More surgery would probably keep me from playing for another season. I wouldn’t have a contract by the time I finished, and how would I get a team to sign me?

She shook her head. “This isn’t something surgery can fix. I wish I could give you better news, but the last scans… I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do.”

This was it. I was done. I made the sentence in my head, but I couldn’t make it mean anything. Hockey had been my life for twenty years. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

“We’ll send the reports to the team. There will be paperwork, but take your time to process this.”

The team. The Bonfire were playing in the finals this weekend. I couldn’t let this news mess with the team, not before the most important game of the year.

“Can you hold off?”

She sighed. “Waiting won’t change the prognosis.”

“I understand.” The news was sinking in. “But it’s the Isobel Cup this weekend. I don’t want to distract the team.”

“It’s considerate to think of your teammates, but you’ll need support now.”

“Please.” My voice broke. “Just a week. I’d rather tell them after they’ve won the Cup. I’ll be fine for a few days.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you have family? Non-teammate friends to help you handle this in the interim?”

I nodded. Technically I had family, but damned if I was telling them. “I’ll talk to my friend Mattie. She doesn’t play hockey, so she won’t let the news out. I have family, and a boyfriend.”

I didn’t say when I’d talk to them. Could the doctor tell?

“I’ll give you a few more days. But Jayna, don’t try to deal with this on your own.”

I just nodded. I was stronger than she knew. I could handle it.

* * *

A couple of hours later, I was well on my way to pass-out drunk. I’d ridden the subway to the end of the line then got out, with no idea of where to go, just knowing I couldn’t go back to the apartment I shared with Megan. I’d ignored texts from her, Faith, Anna and Coach. I hoped the doctor hadn’t told the team yet, but in the meantime I couldn’t face them. How late was this bar open?

“Hey! Jayna Templin!”

I twisted around when someone called me. Of all the damned inconvenient times to be recognized.

It was a young guy, looking way too excited to see a woman hockey player. “I know you. You play hockey, right? Can I have a selfie?”

I frowned, trying desperately to make myself sound sober. I still represented the team, and I wasn’t going to blow that, not for my pity party.

“Sh-sure.” I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping it looked reasonable. The guy braced himself against the bar beside me and stretched out his arm. I did my best to move my muscles into my public smile. Hell, maybe I should have denied who I was?

The guy snapped a few shots and checked them. I peered over his shoulder, and while focusing was a little tricky, I didn’t see anything embarrassing.

“Is your boyfriend here?” His expression was still excited.

Boyfriend? Oh, Braydon. Of course. Interested in the NHL player. “No.” Didn’t expand on that when I might say too much.

My new bestie settled beside me for a chat. “I thought he was maybe an asshole, after that first game, you know?”

I nodded. The room swam, so I stopped.

“But if you’re dating him, he must be okay. I guess he was just pissed off that he couldn’t celebrate with you, huh?”

My phone buzzed. By habit, I checked the screen. “Lucky you. It’sh him.” I must have sounded a little too something, because he backed away.

“It’s okay. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No, no.” I swiped to accept the call. “Boyfriend!”

“Jayna? Are you okay?”

I shook my head. The room swam again. I had to watch that.

“Jayna?”

I swallowed. “Um, I’m at a bar.” Didn’t want to say I was anything but okay with Superfan still hovering around.

“What bar?”

I looked around. “I dunno.” I turned to Superfan. “Where are we?”

He pointed to the sign over the display of bottles. “The Pub.”

I snorted. “It’s called the Pub.”

“What’s the address?”

How was I supposed to know that when I didn’t even know the name?

“Hey!” I called to Superfan and held out the phone. “Tell him. Where we are.”

The edges of my buzz were starting to wear off, so I should leave before I did something even more stupid. I waved to the bartender and shoved my credit card at him.

Superfan handed me back my phone. “He’s going to come pick you up, and he asked me to make sure you’re okay till he gets here.”

I blinked. Should I be upset about this? Possibly. I could try to get back to the subway or call a ride, but I wasn’t in good shape. Braydon it was. I nodded to Superfan. “All right.”

He smiled, relieved to be helping. “My sister plays hockey, and she wants to be just like you.”

Despite my knee, that warmed the inside of my chest and numbed the pain. We needed more women, fighting to make our game more equitable.

“That’s great.” I spoke carefully. “What position does she play?”

* * *

I didn’t notice Braydon when he arrived. It had been half an hour, and I hadn’t had anything to drink except water. Superfan, real name Sean, and I had been talking about his sister and what her options were, so I was surprised when Braydon slid into the stool beside me.

I looked up, no longer in danger of falling off my seat, meeting his worried blue eyes. “Hey.”

His frown vanished and a smile snuck out. How bad had I sounded when he called? “Hey.” He turned to my new friend on the other side. “You’re the guy I talked to on the phone?”

“Sean. My sister plays hockey, so Tempo—I mean, Jayna—has been giving me advice for her.”

Braydon smiled down at me. “She knows her stuff. I’m Braydon Mitchell.” He held out his hand and Sean rushed to shake it.

“I know.”

Braydon’s cheeks flushed. Embarrassed because he was still thinking of that video, or just not used to recognition? “Thanks for keeping an eye on her till I got here.”

My eyes narrowed, but I was still drunk enough that I couldn’t argue. Braydon leaned over to catch the bartender’s attention.

“I settled up already.”

He nodded. “Okay, want to head out?”

Not really. This place, a bar I’d never been to and would probably never see again, was an escape bubble. Outside, I had to face things. But staying here and drinking would only make things worse tomorrow. “I guess.”

Sean shot me a worried look. Right, I should be a little happier to see my boyfriend. I still had one job, and I sure as hell couldn’t afford to lose it. I reached a hand up to Braydon’s shirt and tugged him down. Before he knew what I was doing, I’d pressed my mouth to his.

He twitched. And for a moment didn’t respond. I tugged on his shirt again, and then he moved his hand to the back of my head, threading his fingers through my hair the way he liked to do and sending a different buzzing through my body as he committed to the kiss.

He pulled back. I almost fell against him and his hands moved to my arms.

“Okay?”

I smiled dreamily, forgetting my problems and my location for a few heady seconds.

“Come on, babe.”

Babe? Did we have pet names? I didn’t remember pet names. Could I live with babe? I could try. “Okay, babe!”

Braydon blinked and gripped my hand. He tugged and I slid to my feet. I wobbled a little, so he released my hand—boo! And wrapped his arm around my waist. That was nice.

I leaned into him, like I could let my problems go for a few minutes. I didn’t do that. I had to depend on myself. But we were still in the bubble, not dealing with real life, so I relaxed and let him lead me away.

Braydon had pulled his truck into a loading zone not far from the Pub. His blinkers were on, and he hadn’t been towed. Lucky bastard.

He led me to the passenger door and unlocked the car. “Need help to get in?”

Did I? I wanted it, so I nodded. He wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me up. My ass landed on the seat, and he helped me tuck my legs in before closing the door.

Once he was behind the wheel, engine running and welcome heat coming through the vents, he turned to me, the worry lines back on his forehead. “Where do you want to go? Your place?”

I shook my head, hitting it on the passenger window. “Ouch.”

His lips twisted. “Um, my place? Not for, you know, but…”

I let my head lean against the glass. Some “you know” would definitely keep the real world at bay, but I was too drunk, too drained to make “you know” any good.

“Yeah, let’s go to your place.”

Braydon’s place wasn’t part of my world. I didn’t have to worry about my problems there. It was easier to focus on his.

He stretched out his hand, gave my leg a light squeeze. “Whatever you want.”